Why?

 Do you know I often wonder why I write this blog; someone, once said to me, don't wander too much you'll get lost – but I digress. 

I have always felt the need to write all the time. Once in a while I would be out with my pals – I called them mates, in those days – and I would bring my pen out and a piece of paper and write something.

Two things here: number one ' called them mates in those days the reason I changed to calling them pals, is when we lived in America, and I was there for 17 years, I would use the word 'mate' and some people would think I was referring to my wife and number two – I would bring my pen out – nothing significant there but have you noticed the Americans usually say 'pencil.' I remember Shelly Berman, in one of his famous sketches said 'hold on I'll get a pencil.' In America people would ask that as opposed to 'do you have a pen?'

Now where was I?

Yes the reason for writing this blog. 

Well it's not for brownie points, some kind of kudos or status. It's just a need; I never plan anything, I suppose it's probably what they call stream of consciousness – by the way, again: for some reason the Americans pronounce kudos as Keudoze as if it's plural. It's Greek so it's KudoSS.

Getting back to the thrust – hey I don't know what's coming so don't ask – in the beginning I wrote a novel – well that was years and years ago and it was called The Killing of Mister Wilshire – I suppose there must be a copy somewhere but I remember at the end of most of the chapters it said 'fowl play was not suspected – 'three chickens were released after questioning.'

It was my little joke, of course, but thinking about it I would like to take a look one day and see some kind of surreal adventure in silliness – I think I remember writing a line like 'I would look at him as he told me off – my big bully of a boss – and then I would look at the side of his forehead and see where I would hit him with the stapler I was holding, the stapler of which he was laying into me for not refilling and . . bla bla bla.

The novel I actually did write, later on, when I had Graves Disease in Los Angeles, took me a few years to write and then some. There are many drafts one writes and each time it has to be proof read. Then another draft and, even though I am a big fan of Tom Hanks (who must sign his autograph thanks and I have to ask myself is he the new John Wayne or Pat Boone) he is now a novelist. I mean he is, obviously not a polymath, but he didn't get any rejections for his novel. He realises that this is unfair when, at the same time, young writers don't even get their novels read by a literary agent.

It seemed like a brick wall when I wrote my first one and then Amazon published it. They do a great deal for writers even though they are criticised but it's really only one step above self publishing  . . . lots of great writers, in the past, self published their first novels. It cost them a lot of money, having to get a certain quota printed. Amazon have a policy of P.O.D. Print On Demand.

So here I am down here on the page and I haven't even started to say what I wanted yet.

In 1971 decimalisation came to the United Kingdom – some time in February, and on that day the post office was on strike. I can't remember if it was the whole post office or just the postmen – I suppose they are post persons these days – and on that magical day in that February long ago no postage stamps were franked with the historic date – no first day covers – it must have been a bit of a pisser for philatelists. 

I didn't mind the change to money but when the UK joined the Common Market, as it was called then, Valued Added Tax came to be – VAT.

Everything had to be changed as decimalisation meant things had to be counted in tens. 

We are not in a world of tens. There are 24 hours in a day. 60 minutes to the hour. 60 seconds to the minute and so on. Our heart beats at that pace like music. 4 beats to the bar, the 'middle 8' in pop music. 

When CDs came into our lives the beat was constant exactly every time you played the song. When Carl Perkins wrote Blue Suede Shoes he changed between 80 beats to the minute to 100 and down to 60. 

Add to that, vinyl records were not constant; 45 revolutions per minute, 33 or 16, didn't always hit the mark and after a while it became clear to cardiologists that the constant beat interfered with the heart beat of the listener.

I am not writing an official paper or report so you'll just have to believe me.

I remember saying to my wife, that if the powers that be could have their way, they would decimalise time and then I found out today. that they did – in 1792 (in Paris) – they, the magic 'they' - invented the decimal watch: 100 minutes to the hour, 10 hours to the day and how long did it last? 

Not ten, but two years.

That's enough, isn't it, so I'll quit before something else comes to me.